Wednesday, August 21, 2013

By Robin Glasser (Guest Blogger)

Remember the children’s table at
family events? Lately it seems as though all the adults I used to
turn a green-eyed gaze upon are now dropping dead. Case in point: One
of my favorite cousins, who lived in a luxurious beach house in
Malibu, CA, kicked the diamond-encrusted bucket. Before her
departure, she and her stunning son had recently visited Croatia.
Harriet always traveled first-class and Ben was always elated to join
her.

While on vacation (she didn’t need to
work so life was a constant holiday), Harriet began waxing poetic
about her own funeral. Did she have a premonition, perhaps? She
announced she wanted a FUNeral (spelling’s the same~accent on fun)
so that people attending would celebrate her life. Who knew that less
than a month later her words would become true?

Her husband graciously offered me a
plane ticket (economy not first-class) and I went west. The affair
was held at the local yacht club where the widower docks his very big
boat. People voiced their thoughts about Harriet—all spectacular of
course. Afterward, everyone gathered on the club’s patio to hors
d’oeuvre and drink. The sunset was glorious and the FUNeral was
among the best I’ve ever attended.

I’d been thinking along these lines
myself and told my closest compadres that when my time is up, I want
to have a ‘gone away’ party. After all, if you get the most you
can out of life—why not celebrate its end?

The following forms of entertainment
below offer invaluable insights into life and death:

Departures (2008) won the 2009
Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (Japan)

What
usually coincides with death? Why cemeteries, of course. And whenever
I travel, I try to visit them. In fact, I wrote a piece about a very
famous one. Go to this link: http://blog.parisinsights.com/?p=12602
to answer the question: Who has the shiniest crotch in Père
Lachaise? Tweet your answer to https://twitter.com/RobinGlasser1
or email me at robinglasser [at] yahoo.com.

The first three people with the right
answer will win an ebook copy of MY LIFE AS A CONCUBINE—
the lively
account of a savvy,New
York Citywoman,
never married, not looking to be, who suddenly falls in love with
aFrenchman.
After several enchanting years together, Jean-Loup tells her that he
must return toFrance.
She is in a quandary—stay on the isle ofManhattanwhere
she has work, friends and speaks the lingo or depart forPariswith
the utterly adorable frog prince? There is one teensy-weensy
problem—Jean-Loup hasn’t asked her to go with him. When he
finally pops the question, it certainly isn’t the one she expects.

Excerpt

Saturday night I arrived promptly,
dressed to resurrect roadkill. Jean-Loup ushered me into his
apartment as if I'd been spun from platinum and took me on le grand
tour. He had spent ten years of his life in Africa and Indonesia and
had the artifacts to prove it. I "ooooohed" and
"aaaahhhhed" enthusiastically. He offered me a cocktail,
then another one. The liquor was flowing, along with my libido.
Jean-Loup swept me up in his arms, carried me to the bedroom, and
that was it.

And "it" was
fan-fucking-tastic! The Frenchman didn't bother to unbutton his
shirt. He just pulled the tail ends from his trousers, grabbed them
with both hands and ripped the cloth in half. Buttons scattered in a
bright sprinkle. Jean-Loup literally jumped out of his pants and
underwear. Although slender, his body was hard-muscled and
beautifully formed. Pulling me into his arms, the Frenchman kissed me
deeply, expertly. When his hand reached for my zipper, I gently
pushed him away.

"Go lie down. I want you to watch
me."

As he walked toward the bed, I kept my
eyes on his smooth, tight buns. The play of muscles beneath that
creamy patch of skin was a real turn-on. Jean-Loup reclined on the
quilt. Sinuously, I moved toward him, stopping just out of his reach
and his erection.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to
do to you, Jean-Loup."

My voice was soft—husky with sex.
Slow as an escargot, I began to lower the zipper of my snug, silk
dress. With a little bump and grind, I shimmied out of its black
bonds. I hadn't bothered with a bra. Clad only in garter belt,
stockings and stilettos, I removed the combs from my hair, tossed my
head, and let the raven cloud settle about my shoulders. I stared
into his eyes—their intensity scorched my body like a firebrand. It
took all I had to restrain myself from jumping his bones. Instead, I
released a stocking from its garters, then stepped out of my heels.
Placing a foot atop his nightstand, I slowed peeled the black mesh
down my leg.

Skimming the whispery strip over his
body, I asked, "Like the feel of it, Jean-Loup? Imagine my lips
following the same course."

As I began to wind the wisp round his
pulsating prick, he grabbed me, pulling me down beside him. Our lips
came together in a searing kiss. Our tongues danced a passionate pas
de deux. Tearing his mouth from mine, the Frenchman captured a
swollen nipple. Two pairs of hands stroked, squeezed, explored. The
fierce heat of desire burned throughout my body. I couldn't wait any
longer and impaled myself upon his cock.

I lost all track of time until morning
when, awakened by a lion roaring in my ear (snores from my "king"),
I faced reality—runny mascara. If you've been there before, you
know the score. I made a hasty retreat, figuring in my befuddled and
besotted mind that this had been an incredible one-night-stand.

Recovering
copywriter, Robin Glasser has written for a variety of magazines
ranging from Readers'
Digest to
Penthouse
Letters, where
she wrote a column called "The Red Hot Woman." Her poetry
has been published inUpstairs
at Durocand
The
Riverside Poetry Review.
Ms. Glasser's novel, My
Life as a Concubine,
is based on her experiences in Paris or as she likes to call it, The
City of Merde, and has been re-released from Smashwords and is
available in all virtual bookstores. Robin guarantees Men
at Work,
her fully-illustrated book of poetry, will put twinkles in your eyes
and sparkles in your pants. Don't forget to watch her fast-paced
peepshows based on these tongue & cheeky poems at
http://www.youtube.com/msrobinglasser.
You can get a copy fromrobinglasser [at] yahoo [dot] com
Her latest novel, The
Brain Exchange,
is available at Smashwords, Amazon, et al. She now reads at various
venues in New York.

Thanks, Lisabet~~for hosting me and being one of the loveliestwomen in cyberspace. I hope you do 'make it big' then you can fly all your friends over to celebrate~~on your fleet of private jets of course!